Laugh at This Clumsy Boy Who Loves You
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: A well-spent Christmas evening leads to a realisation that Jack is quite surprised to face.


**Author's Notes: I honestly tried to write fluff. This was supposed to be funny and nice and cute and it started like that and then went downhill real damn fast, so I'll have to accept it. I can't let go of angst even for a second.**

**Anyway. Have a Christmas story, because I won't be back until at least after Boxing Day and I thought that a Christmas fic is in order. The title is taken from a poem by Pablo Neruda. I hope you like it.**

Given how things had ended last Christmas - with Ianto having too much rum and throwing up over a Weevil - Jack knew that he should have known better than letting him drink anything. Now it was too late, and he was treated to the sight of Ianto downing the third glass of eggnog.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" Jack asked warily. He didn't have it in him to actually stop him, though, for a couple of reasons. One, there was a secret part of him that liked to see Ianto drunk because he let loose. Two, Ianto's flat was warm and the fairy lights were making him calm and comfortable and his body didn't feel like moving from Ianto's baroque sofa anytime soon.

Ianto set his glass on the table and coordinated himself - not as easily as he normally would - to straddle Jack's legs. "You know," he started as if he was about to make the revelation of the century. "You're really pretty."

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. Ianto wasn't one for compliments, usually; there was the occasional mid-coitus declaration of "Christ, Jack, you're gorgeous like this", but nothing else. Jack himself gave them freely and Ianto would usually just scoff at him for it, which made him think that he just found them pointless.

"Thank you," the Captain said at last, still bemused. "You're not completely yourself right now, are you?" When Ianto just blinked at him owlishly, Jack waved his own words off. "Oh, never mind. You're absolutely charming anyway."

"Charming," Ianto echoed, rolling the r in a way that forced Jack to remind himself that taking advantage of Ianto's unusual friendliness would be wrong.

Ianto bit his lip pensively, then apparently decided what he wanted, because he turned to Jack with a decisive look in his eyes. "Kiss me, Jack," he murmured, his cold fingers tracing the lines of Jack's face.

And really, how could he resist? Jack complied happily and brought his lover closer to himself for a deep kiss. Ianto's usual grace made a strong comeback now as he twisted in Jack's arms swiftly, igniting the fire of seduction like only he could - slow and focused and thorough until Jack was putty in his hands, ready to give in to anything he wanted. Those deep blue eyes were staring at him with the deceptive innocence of a man who knew precisely what effect he was having.

There was something off, though, and Jack wasn't sure what it was. It was Christmas and he wasn't in the cold lonely Hub for the first time in years, he and Ianto had shared the absolutely fantastic dinner the Captain had cooked earlier and he had a beautiful boy in his arms nipping along his neck and writhing in his place like a professional lap dancer, and Jack was still holding back. What was wrong with this picture?

Ah, yes. He remembered just as Ianto's hot, sweet breath brushed over his cheek. "We're not having sex," Jack said, not without some difficulty.

"Why not?" And wouldn't he have just _loved_ to, with Ianto looking like he did - hair tousled, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, his shiny, wet lips stretched into a lazy lecherous smile and that amazing body pressed against Jack's - but he couldn't. Not in Ianto's state. "Come on, it's Christmas."

"I've already got you your present," Jack reasoned. "And you're drunk."

"I'm sober enough to know what I want," Ianto objected and wiggled in Jack's lap, making the Captain close his eyes and let out a sharp breath. He was pretty sure that Ianto didn't realise what he was doing to him, and he would have to make sure that he never did. A drunk Ianto could be rather overenthusiastic and Jack had some memories from the last time it had happened - and those memories were what made him wary around his lover when he was under the influence.

And, much to Jack's misfortune, for Ianto 'under the influence' meant 'had more than one beer'. It was probably why he avoided drinking; he really couldn't hold his liquor.

He tried to stroke over Ianto's side to calm him down and groaned when he felt his lover grab his hand victoriously and slide it down his body. Jack could have guessed the destination on the first try, but his eyes still widened in surprise when his fingers brushed over Ianto's crotch. After he'd been drinking, too. One of the best - or, as it currently was the case - worst parts of dating a twenty-four-year-old was that there wasn't such a thing as too drunk to get it up. Not with Ianto, at least, and his lover's refractory period was notoriously short.

Ianto's fingers were idly playing with the buttons of Jack's shirt and it was what made him snap out of his thoughts of times when Ianto was stone cold sober and the Captain would have no moral obligations to not jump him there and then. "Ianto," he protested, but his voice was muffled by a long finger pressed against his lips.

"Shhh," he cooed, expression as solemn as it could get. "Just let me handle this."

"I'm not sure that's a very good idea," Jack started and was yet again stopped when Ianto initiated another scorching kiss, his hands sliding in Jack's hair with delight that poured off him as Jack finally gave in and responded in kind.

They didn't have to do anything, really. Ianto would fall asleep as soon as they got to bed, Jack supposed, and what harm could a little snogging do?

"Come on, Jack," Ianto urged him again, his usually clear diction now a bit slurred as his voice turned into little more than a purr. "Don't be ridiculous." When there was no response except for the small kisses Jack placed all over his lover's face, Ianto continued. "Look, if you're too tired and think you can't manage it-"

"Remind me to never let you get drunk again," Jack cut him off. "You get even more insatiable and cheeky than usual."

"And that's a bad thing?" Ianto teased.

"It is when I can't control it," Jack growled when Ianto buried his head in his shoulder and busied himself there. "Seriously, though, we can't. Not when you're like that. How do you feel about tomorrow morning?"

Ianto sighed. He knew Jack well enough to realise that he wouldn't give in and let the topic drop. He smiled at Jack again and the Captain could immediately tell the difference – where it had been flirtatious and demanding before, it was now gentle, as if he was being let into a secret that only his lover knew. His eyes were the warmest blue Jack had ever seen and looked almost alien on that young, unblemished face; the pale skin glowing on the dimmed light.

_I love you,_ Jack realised with a start. He wondered how he hadn't noticed the emotion before; it was so intense that it almost hurt and yet it was stuck in his throat, as if the words would leave a permanent mark on someone constantly changing and morphing, and he couldn't let it happen. Couldn't destroy this uniqueness with any sentence. Not when Ianto probably knew it already anyway.

Other people left memories behind. Ianto left a trail of fire.

"What're you staring at me like that for?" the man in question asked, on alert for whatever reason and Jack wondered what possibilities did the alcohol have with that brilliant mind before he laughed and leant in to kiss Ianto on the nose.

"Let's go to bed, shall we?" He asked and coordinated his lover enough to get him off of the sofa and into standing position, trying to get them both into the next room without any accidents. He undressed Ianto, who was finally still under his hands as he took his clothes off and steered him gently towards the bed.

The heating in the flat was on in full force and yet, as they got under the duvet, Jack felt Ianto press up against him and shivered. "Why are you always so bloody _cold_?" He asked, only to have Ianto squirm closer.

"Dunno. I like using you as a pillow, though. You're always warm."

Finally content, Ianto closed his eyes as Jack put an arm around him. "Hey, Jack?" He murmured and Jack motioned at him to speak. "Merry Christmas."

This time, the Captain allowed his own eyes to close as well. "Merry Christmas, Ianto," he said and gripped him closer to himself; impossibly closer, as if if he tried hard enough, he would never have to let go.


End file.
